I've been President for nearly two months. Everything is awful.
Today, I met with Angela Merkel. Not a big deal. Turns out, learning to pronounce her name is tricky--it's like teaching nerds how to say 'Gif' properly. Hard 'G', people. Hit the 'g', don't ignore it.
She smells like Fritos and sunflowers. Very odd.
Traveling to Mar-a-Lago today. Can no longer call it 'The Winter White House,' as it is almost April. Thinking of renaming it 'Camp Barron'. Melania approves.
At Mar-a-Lago. Sitting in my room, on the edge of a bed so huge Scalia could die in it and not be noticed. Time. Time is something that weighs on me--I am convinced that time should be spelled with the i and the e together. Teim. Very German--always pronounce the second vowel, and no need for the consonant interrupting the precision of the vowels. I may invade Poland tomorrow.
My god, should I have shaken Merkel's hand? She intentionally sneezed into it. I saw it.
Dinner. Melania is across from me, her skin the color of crushed ice and her eyes like a furnace. Next to me is Bannon, who keeps talking about Watergate, which is a hotel just down the block from the White House. All I ever hear from him is 'blah blah blah.' My god, Melania is beautiful. She is the handshake I should give to Angela--the hard 'g' to my soft one.
A person just came to my door. He explained himself in a way I could not by saying he was from the NSA. "Sir," he said, "there is a new breach."
"Melania just had a new kid?"
Then he continued talking. I hate being President.
Inappropriate sharing, incomprehensible ramblings, uncalled-for hostility: yup, it's a blog.
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